Barret's Bitches

     This morning, I discovered the sun was gone. I know what you're thinking. "Sephiroth," you say, "shouldn't you be more surprised that the sun is gone?" And to that I answer no. For nothing surprises me anymore. I went to take a piss this morning and the toilet was covered in saran wrap. Of course it was. Also, I should mention that the toilet was replaced with an alligator. Just goes to show that my sense of shock is...gone. The more shocking "alligator trying to eat my privates" was preempted by the thought of the saran wrap over his mouth.
     Back to the sun. I looked out my window and soon found that there were no windows in the house. They were all plasma screen televisions. I wouldn't have noticed except that, all of the sudden, Sonic the Hedgehog appeared in every window eating a chili-dog. When I cut a hole in the building and looked outside, I saw that it was night. Always. Mother didn't break the sun or make it go nova or whatever, she just moved it. I hate that Mother is so powerful.
     I hate the sun. It gets in my eye.
     Continuing with my theme of ignoring large issues, I decided to join the trio and Mother in watching some TV. I took a seat on the couch. For some reason, everybody else was sitting on the floor while the couch was empty. Sure, it was covered in peanut butter, but at least I sat alone...for about ten seconds. Then all of my "brothers" jumped onto the couch to watch TV next to me. Fun.
     My new favorite show is on!
     "Yay!" everybody but me said. Mother changed the channel for a new program. It opened with a kid-friendly intro screen. Bright, fun colors and a child's font, but hardly a children's program. The title screen read "Barret's Bitches by Marlene Wallace. Starring Barret Wallace." Once the silly title went away, it was just Barret sitting on a wall in a park. He faced the camera and spoke as if speaking to children, but...not.

     "Sup, noogers," he said. You could see a piece of his soul die with every word he spoke. "Yup, dat's our word of uh day."
     "Worrrrrrrd up!" a group of children piped in. Oh, and so did the trio and Mother.
     "It a word to call yo' friends. It also a word to call people you hate. Like dis." An old, frail, white man walked by and gave the group of kids a friendly wave. Barret waved back and shouted, "Sup, nooger! Nice day, ain't it?"
     "I don't talk to blacks," the old man responded before leaving the screen.

     "This is horrible, Mother," I said.
     Shhhh. I'm watching, Sephy!

     "Now les try it on a guy we hate," Barret told the children. I'm pretty sure I saw a tear forming in his eye. A few seconds later, an old, frail, black man walked by and gave the group of kids a friendly wave. Barret gave him the finger and shouted, "Get outta here you nooger!"
     "The hell's with you?" the old man shouted back. "You some sorta black-hating oreo!?"
     Staff members for the show raced on the scene dressed as police. They tackled the old man and beat him senseless.
     "Look out, kids!" Barret shouted. "Nobody likes the po-po. Les get outta here!"
     Barret and all the kids pretended to run away while the backgrounds changed around them to make it look like they were running. The backgrounds stopped and everybody stopped pretending to run except for a couple kids. Staff members hit them with riot shields and pulled them off the set. I think we weren't supposed to notice, but how do you not notice a couple of riot shields beating small children?
     The new setting was a street corner in front of an alley with a large trashcan and a homeless man. Barret stood by a lamppost. "Here we be at everybody's favorite spot: Money Bitch Corner!"
     "Yay!" the children cheered. For simplicity, just figure that whenever the children on the show do something, the trio and Mother do it as well.
     "Let's go find a bitch!" Barret proclaimed. I hoped for Barret's sake that this show wasn't going on much longer. Based on his current, exponentially-increasing rate of sorrow, I started to assume he must cry his eyes out during every commercial break.
     A woman in skimpy clothes approached him. She was a horrible actress, but I could still tell she was very afraid for her safety.
     "Now, we gotta trick o' treat dis bitch. Lesse what she picks," Barret said to the kids quietly; as if the scripted woman wouldn't hear. He then turned to her. "Bitch, gil or grill!" The children said this along with him.
     "I only made fifty gil," she said, holding out fifty gil.
     "Stop playin' me, woman!" Barret shouted. He performed the world's most poorly acted backhand on the woman, who gave an equally poor performance for pretending to be hit. The screen suddenly cut away to a "Technical Difficulties, Homie" screen. When the picture returned, the woman was on the ground bleeding and the riot shield-equipped staff members were running off the set.
     "I'm so sorry," the woman cried. She handed Barret another hundred gil.
     "So what'd we learn, kids?" Barret asked as the woman ran away.
     "You gotta smack 'em across the teeth when they hold out?" a kid asked innocently.
     "Dat's right," Barret replied. "Sometimes, damn hoes try to keep some extra cash cuz dey gotta feed kids or sometin. But we gotta protect our own interests too, right? I ain' gonna get high on fifty gil's worth of crack."

     "I'm done," I said. Mother and the trio were still glued to the television. I considered doing so many things. There's the route of the hero where I fly over to Midgar and save Barret from this horrible life. And then there's the route where I just say "to hell with them all" and find something else to do.
     Since I obviously wasn't going to Midgar, I found Mother's new arcade. It had some fun games in there. I started with a racing game. One of those that you sit in the car seat thing and pretend you're driving. I only did that once, however, because when I stood back up, I honestly couldn't tell if the seat was covered with the peanut butter I sat in previously or if it was fecal matter that I hadn't noticed when I'd sat in the seat originally. The safe route was to just never play that game ever again. Instead I found Mansion of the Dead. It was a rail-shooter that was supposed to look like my old home: Shin-Ra Mansion. You shoot at zombies and those annoying yin-yang monsters. Also bats. And that scary guy with the guillotine blade that dangled from the ceiling. You know, he lived at the mansion while I lived there. Fun fact. Either way, this game was amazingly fun. I played for hours before Mother and the trio came in to join me.
     "The show finally ended?" I asked them.
     Kadaj picked up a gun to play with me. He's a horrible shot, but not as bad as "I touch my gun to the screen" Yazoo.
     Yep, it just ended, nooger.
     "It's been two hours," I noted.
     I...don't follow.
     "Poor Barret," I muttered to myself. "I should've killed him."
     Sephy, you're not my favorite anymore.
     "Thank God!" I shouted happily. I haven't smiled this much since--no, let's not go there. I'll stir up horrible, repressed, childhood memories. I turned my attention back to Mother, just for curiosity. "So who is?"
     Loz.
     "Loz. Why?"
     I dared him to eat something I found on the floor, and he DID.
     "That's probably the best, most responsible way to choose your favorite child. Good job, Mother."
     Thank you. Know who's my least favorite?
     "No. And I don't care, either."
     It's Tiffany!
     "Tiffany isn't your--" I decided to rethink my pointless statement. "Tiffany. Good choice. Is it because she wouldn't eat that thing you found on the floor?"
     Aww, you know me so well, Sephy! Too bad you're not my favorite anymore. But hey, you're second favorite. First the worst, second the best, right? And Loz is certainly the worst.
     "Sure," I said. I tried to think of what I could say to end this conversation, but Mother was blocking the ability to think of that. She has been for the past few years. I hate it.
     I could take away more of your freedoms. I could make you touch Kadaj's ass, after all. I have mind control.
     "Nuh uh," I didn't say. I'm not that stupid. For some reason though, the phrase did fall out of my mouth. But still, I didn't say it. And I'm not a friggin puppet. Shut up.
     I can't, you think? Well watch this! BOOP! Touched his butt!
     I didn't.
     BOOP! Did it again. This time with an added squeeze!
     I didn't. Really.
     BOOP! Whoooooop. This time you bumped your butt against Yazoo's butt!
     I didn't! And I'm frightened that Mother has learned all of their names.
     BOOP BOOP BOOP BOOP! Ohhp, all of your butts touched at once like a four-way butt-kiss!
     "EPISODE OVER!" I shouted. For reals. It's over.